


The Wooing of a Pathologist.

by BarPurple



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Based on Tumblr Art, Flirting, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: With Asgardians in London a certain pathologist is receiving a lot of attention.





	The Wooing of a Pathologist.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this delight http://barpurplewrites.tumblr.com/post/169823577295/strangelock221b-butyourgonnabehappyaboutit and the conversation that followed

“Molly? Why are your flowers changing colour?”

The vase of daisies on the corner of Molly’s desk were slowly going from white to yellow and back again. It wasn’t the strangest thing John had ever seen, but it certainly made the list, since these appeared to be real flowers, not artificial ones. Molly stuck her pen through her ponytail and smiled; “Loki sent them. We had dinner last night and he was telling all about Asgard. He has such funny stories; did you know that….”

The sound of breaking glass caused both John and Molly to spin around. Sherlock was standing by the lab bench, a shattered beaker at his feet.

“Sorry about that, caught it with my elbow as I stood up. Er, John call Lestrade, tell him to arrest the brother.”

John pulled his phone from his pocket; “And what will you be doing?”

Sherlock pointed at the broken glass; “Sweeping this mess up. Honestly John I can’t leave the morgue in this state, that would be dangerous.”

He turned on the spot and hurried away to the janitor’s closet. Molly and John stared after him.

“Well, that’s a first.”

A sly smile appeared on John’s face; “Yeah, it is isn’t it?”

-o0o-

Molly pulled her googles off and examined the blast pattern. Loki leaned closer to the side of pork and pointed at the wound.

“You see, the burn pattern is Chitauri, even though this is a, oh what was that wonderful word you used?”

She picked up a camera to document the patterns; “A frankenstien weapon. We’re going to have to tell Mycroft that these blasters are on the streets.”

The camera in her hand lowered as she tilted her head at Loki. He saw the unasked question in her eyes; “I promise you Doctor Molly, I had nothing to do with this. I would happily never see these weapons ever again, I don’t want them in the hands of London’s criminals any more than you do.”

She stared at him for a long moment and finally nodded; “I believe you, Loki. I suppose that we are going to see a lot more wounds caused by off-world weapons.”

He smiled at her a twinkle of mischief in his eyes; “Well, you do have an expert who is willing to share all his knowledge with you, Doctor Molly.”

With a wave of his hand a vast array of weapons appeared on one of the lab benches.

“We could start right now.”

Molly’s eyes lit up with the thrill of learning something new, but she shook her head.

“I’m sorry I can’t, not now. Sherlock needs me for a stake out, I’ve got to hurry. We’ll do this very soon, okay?”

He gave her a bow; “Of course.”

As Molly hurried from the room Loki’s hands flashed Jotunheim blue.

-o0o-

Lestrade tapped on the door of Molly’s office and was greeted by a wide yawn.

“Oh sorry, Greg.”

“Big weekend?”

Molly smiled; “Yeah. Friday night Sherlock took me on a Ghost Tour of Manchester, and Saturday Loki took me to Venice for dinner and a show.”

Greg raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly; “So which did you enjoy more?”

“Oh both. I had a great time with both of them,” – she yawned again, - “I just could have done with some more sleep.”

Greg decided he wasn’t touching that comment with a ten-foot-pole, he looked at the file in his hand, “Erm, okay, so the Putney John Doe?”

-o0o-

“Shuler Hensley!”

“Rory Kinnear!”

Mrs Hudson slammed the hoover back into the cupboard. The argument was still going on upstairs. Iron Maiden had drowned it out beautifully while she’d been doing the housework, but this was ridiculous. If she wanted any peace for the afternoon she needed to stop this foolishness quickly. She sent a text to Molly and put the kettle on while she waited for the reply. When her phone chimed with the response she gave a little chuckle and headed up the stairs to 221B.

Loki rolled his eyes; “The portrayal in Penny Dreadful is so much closer to Mary Shelley’s original!”

Sherlock huffed in annoyance; “Yes, but the Van Helsing film captures that original persona and combines it with the popular perception!”

“What are you two arguing about?”

The consulting detective and the God of Mischief whipped around to look at Mrs Hudson. Sherlock broke into a wide grin.

“Mrs H. Which is the best portrayal of Frankenstein’s monster in film or television?”

She started picking up the empty teacups; “Well everyone has their own favourite, don’t they? Personally, I like Christopher Lee, oh that man, such a gentleman,” – she sighed, her eyes misty with happy recollection, - “But Molly, for example, is rather fond of Frank in Hotel Transylvania.”

Mrs Hudson pottered into the kitchen, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she heard Loki say; “We haven’t watched that one.”

Sherlock was already on his feet pulling his lap top from the clutter on the desk; “No, but we can find it.”

Mrs Hudson grinned to herself as she left the flat to the sound of; “This is Mrs Hudson’s Netflix account. She gave you the password?”

“No, but it’s always a pole dancing move.”

“Pole dancing?”

“Just don’t ask. Safer for both of us.”

-o0o-

John, son of Wat, had given him very specific instructions for entering this building. He had described it as a temple of sorts, so Thor had respectfully dressed in one of those suits that the men of London favoured, and made sure his shoes were clean before he entered.

He approached the guardian and careful repeated the non-verbal communication that John had taught him. The guardian replied with similar gestures that Thor understood to mean ‘Follow me.’ He responded with the sign for thank you and grinned at the guardian’s impressed face.

He was led into a wood panelled room where the man John called the British Government was waiting.

“You can speak in here Mr Odinson. Whiskey?”

“Thank you yes. Your message said we have something important to discuss?”

Mycroft handed him a glass and waved him to a seat. He took the one opposite and plucked a folder from the table at his side.

“Our brothers have an obsession in common Mr Odinson.”

“I prefer Thor, Mr Holmes. And you are going to have to be more specific. Our brothers share may interests.”

Mycroft gave a thin smile, “Yes, murder, mayhem, blatant disregard for public property, but I am currently speaking of Doctor Molly Hooper.”

Thor grinned as he drained the glass of scotch; “Yes, Loki does talk about her rather often, all the time now I think of it. She is a good influence on my brother, on both of our brothers as I understand it. What is the problem?”

Mycroft sighed and flipped open the file, “I have reports of the lengths that both Sherlock and Loki are going to in order to,” – he pursed his lips in distaste, - “Woo the good doctor.”

“Yes, they are doing a bit more than chocolates and fluffy toys…”

“Loki conjured a dozen off-world poisons for Molly to examine. My brother responded by breaking into a top secret research facility in order to obtain experimental mould samples for Molly. Can you see how this could become very dangerous to the rest of the country?”

Thor squirmed in his seat; “Ah, yes, but Molly did soundly chastise them both. Greg Lestrade has the footage on his phone.”

Mycroft had to hide a small smile, he also had the footage from St Barts CCTV relating to that incident; watching his little brother and a god shuffle their feet and beg forgiveness from the so called Morgue Mouse had made him laugh for twenty minutes. He regained his icy composure and glared at Thor.

“And what happens when Doctor Hooper makes her choice?”

Thor gestured toward the decanter, and at Mycroft’s nod poured himself another drink.

“You are assuming that she will favour Loki over Sherlock and that will send Sherlock into a depressive bout of drug use,” – He shrugged – “I’ve read his SHIELD file.”

Mycroft’s eyes narrowed; “Or that she will favour Sherlock over Loki and Loki will go on a killing spree. I’ve read his SHIELD file, and had to help clean up the after his last trip to Germany.”

A tense silence fell in the room. For a long moment bother elder brothers contemplated the destruction that could be wrought depending on the heart of one pathologist. Suddenly Thor snapped his fingers; “What are the odds?”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow; “I beg your pardon?”

“Lestrade explained to me that people in New Scotland Yard were gambling on the outcome of Loki and Sherlock’s wooing.”

“Ah, yes they are sharing the book with St Barts,” – Mycroft flicked through his file to the relevant page, - “Sherlock is the favourite at the moment.”

Thor waved an impatient hand at him; “Yes, but where has Mrs Hudson put her money?”

Anthea had helpfully highlighted that detail, Mycroft raised an eyebrow; “Martha Hudson has one hundred pounds on the three of them entering a polyamorous relationship.”

The god laughed deeply and threw back his whiskey; “In that case we have nothing to worry about, Mycroft son of Siger!”

Mycroft accepted Thor refilling his glass and downed it in one, much to the surprise of the god. The fate of the world at large rested on the instincts of a septuagenarian London landlady. The detail that Mycroft failed to notice that afternoon was that Anthea had also placed her money on the same outcome as Mrs Hudson, but he could be forgiven that over-sight since Thor insisted on drinking to celebrate the future happiness of their siblings and Molly Hooper.


End file.
